


00Q 2.0

by hope91



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), SPECTRE (2015), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Heartache, M/M, Post-SPECTRE, Second Chances, Thinking you're over someone - but maybe you're not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2015-12-01
Packaged: 2018-05-03 20:40:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5306063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hope91/pseuds/hope91
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Q was the one who broke things off with James.  Q knew it was better this way.</p><p>Not that any of it made a difference, in the end - it didn't hurt any less when James <em>chose</em> Madeleine.</p><p>And now that James is back – well, Q never operated under any sort of illusion that his mind and his heart wanted the same things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	00Q 2.0

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sberry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sberry/gifts).



> Also, thank you to [telemachus](http://archiveofourown.org/users/telemachus/pseuds/telemachus) for the beta & brit-pick.

In the end, it hadn’t mattered one bit that Q had been the one to break things off with James.

He couldn’t - wouldn't - handle 007 shagging other people.

Particularly when he thought _that_ was more the result of Bond's inclinations than a necessity of his work itself.

He wanted _more_ \- things that James didn't. Bond had understood – felt dreary, but understood, when Q moved his things out of their flat, the one they'd moved into after Skyfall.

Work was work, but that didn’t mean Q had to - or even could - accept everything that came with the territory, whether it was truly territory or not.

And then –

Bond had never offered to leave M16 for him.  Not that Q would want him to, not the entire program - just the parts that got in the way of _them_.

Not even when Q suggested – half serious, half not – that they run off together.

James _did_ for Madeleine - or perhaps, because of her.

(and she wasn't the first, Q'd heard).

And that made the ache in Q's heart – the one he hid so very well – twist as though shards were driven though him, blasted from every gadget James had ever broken.

Q handled it like he always did – work, work, and more work.

He was _practical_ , after all. _Resilient_.  Archive his emotions and forge onward.

No one needed to look at the results of his pre-employment M16 psych testing battery to know that.

Only Moneypenny knew the truth.

And she was the one warning him now –

_James is back._

****

In the end, it didn’t matter how much time had passed.

Whether it was short, whether it was long –

It felt like _both_ at the same time –

Eternity and a blink of an eye.

****

Surprisingly, it wasn’t such a terrible state of affairs to see James again.

Q'd predicted seeing James would rip open the proverbial stitches in his heart, just like when Bond came back for the car and had driven into the sunset with Madeleine -

Though for all of his field training, all of his skill, James wouldn't have guessed it was so.

No one did.

****

The worst, perhaps, had been when Madeleine was _gone_ -

For so many reasons.

In the end, he wanted James to be happy.

Even if it wasn't with him.

****

If Q could say so himself – and he jolly well would, thank you very much – _this_ time, he knew that he was _over_ James.

Not like _before,_ during the Spectre era, when he'd simply pretended to be.

In fact, _this_ time, it was almost like _old_ times - not just on the _outside_ , but on the _inside_ too.

Minus the snogging in dark corridors and the shagging in Bond’s penthouse, of course - but that was another lifetime.

Even though there were whispers that Bond was too old to return to the field, that it was time for him to retire from active service, he’d never be too old for Q – age being a bloody number and all that.

Maybe Q wasn't as over James as he'd thought.

****

Q’s heart was pounding, just like it did whenever he was in a godforsaken aeroplane.

His stomach was churning, exactly as it'd done last Christmas, when the turkey gave him food poisoning.

He felt completely and utterly wrecked.

But Q hid it well – he always did.

He, after all, wrote the book on besting lie detectors.

 _This_ situation with James simply needed to play out - business as usual - regardless of any remnant inner turmoil.

Turmoil, well-contained, could be extinguished if one was simply patient enough.

“James,” Q said, his smile one that a bystander would attribute to simple surprise upon seeing Bond again.

Certainly not a smile that was _relieved_ , relief from his nagging worry about James' whereabouts and well-being.

“Q,” James said, his own smile wider than it'd ever been in Q's presence.

And before Q knew what was happening, James clasped him close -

For a moment, everything was the same as it had been. The fabric of Bond's suit, the smell of his cologne, the scent of his hair, the feel of his very body -

But everything _wasn't_ the same.

Not anymore.

****

Bond had said it himself – he wasn’t meant for long-term relationships, regardless if part of that was an artifact of the twists and turns life threw his way.

“You don’t need to be a bloody psychologist to know that, Q,” Moneypenny had said.

Back when he'd felt _jilted_ (somewhat illogically, somewhat not), he’d have predicted a slightly shameful satisfaction if things didn’t work out between the fair-haired lovers.

But to see it in truth – to see that James and Madeleine wouldn't make it after all – just made him feel a bit more - lost.

But just a bit - he wouldn't let himself be foolish again.

He _couldn't_ fix whatever was broken inside James.

(Would Madeleine have been able to?)

He wouldn't be the _rebound_.

Not again.

Especially not for someone who (all too obviously) hadn't been willing to give him what he needed.

****

In retrospect, Q should've known better.

Of course he'd end up working with James again -

And it wouldn't be the same as it was with the other agents.

Here James was, blue eyes piercing brown ones, sitting opposite Q during the briefing.

Q didn't look up very often during that meeting, absorbed as he was in planning and thinking -

Or maybe it was that he could feel James' eyes on him almost the entire time, and he thought it best to ignore the truth.

****

"Well then," James said casually, standing in front of Q's desk, "Shall we review this assignment?"

Q didn't look up from his typing. "Just a moment - have to finish this."

His heart was pounding again, to his mind louder than the clicking of the keyboard.

It'd been long enough to forget some of the hurt -

But short enough to remember all that had drawn him to James in the first place.

****

If Q'd been surprised by his initial reaction seeing James again, well, _this_ was even more surprising.

The awkwardness fading away, until it seemed like it'd been _before_ \- well, before everything went horribly wrong.

Before he'd started wanting _more_ \- and James hadn't.

He'd missed the banter, this uniqueness -

and from the sparkle in James' eye, he knew it wasn't just him.

****

Over the next year and a half they fell into a routine - the routine they'd shared back when they'd simply been colleagues.

Even though the _simply colleagues_ part hadn't lasted much more than a few fortnights.

They spent more time together than they needed to.

James helping test Q's new field tools.

Q shooing James away.

Sharing the same lukewarm takeaway from down the street.

Moneypenny joining them often enough.

Only she had the wary eye, and it wasn't directed towards the food.

James and Q seemed to be blissfully - purposefully - ignorant of the path they were traveling.

Or perhaps they weren't.

****

Q hadn't felt anticipation like this since - well, since his first official date with James.

He knew it was foolish.

At least his mind did - his heart, quite frankly, could not care less.

Yet here he was, in this ballroom -

Pretending that he wasn't waiting for James to walk through the doors.

When James finally did - late, fashionably so - Q kept pretending, acting as though he hadn't seen him.

Acting as though he wouldn’t care if he _did_ spot him.

James, on the other hand, did no such thing -

And made a beeline straight for Q.

****

The night flew by - and Q savored every second.

He didn't want it to end -

Just like he'd never wanted their relationship to end, not truly.

Well, his heart hadn't wanted it.

Yet his mind didn't want _this_ \- surely it would end in a mess.

So he teetered back and forth, deciding to stop the mental chatter by bathing himself, almost, in cocktails -

Until James tried to cut him off.

"Enough, Q," he said firmly, grabbing his hand to pull him away from the barmaid.

Q's mind wanted to tell James to stuff it - who was _he_ to tell him what to do?

But that's not what the rest of Q wanted -

And he kissed James, right there by the bar.

James' lips were warm, his hands firm on the small of his back -

Until those same hands - hands Q had known so well - started pushing him away.

"No, Q," James whispered, "this isn't right."

Caught in his own daze of agony as he stumbled away, Q certainly didn't see Bond's own.

****

“Fuck me,” Q muttered as they sat on the terrace outside the ballroom, running his hands through his hair – drinking more wine – running his hands through his hair again.

“Stop it, Q,” Eve said gently, grabbing his hands. “Your twitching is making _me_ twitchy.”

“Back to the start, as though I'd never been over him in the first place.” He felt ashamed, broken, as though there was some muddy spot tattooed on his soul that marked him as _wrong_.

“Stop it, Q,” she hissed. “You’re drunk – you haven’t talked like this since – “ and then she stopped, and sighed.

She shrugged, tossing back the rest of her cocktail. She knew what it was like to pine after someone – who was she to say _he_ couldn’t?

Who was she to say she'd told him so?

“I’ll call a car for us,” she said, and before he could say anything, “Hubs will understand. You need me to tuck you in, at least.”

They stood, and Q felt unsteady inside and out.

He didn’t notice Bond staring at him as he walked - staggered, just slightly - to the door –

Or the _glare_ that Eve sent James’ way when he raised his eyebrows questioningly –

Or the look of sheer defeat that covered Bond’s face, aging him at least ten years in an instant.

****

He didn’t run into Bond for weeks after that.

They didn’t _need_ to interact as much as they had been – not if Q made sure they didn’t cross paths.

He even hoped, briefly, impossibly, that he’d never see James again.

And the thought gave him relief –

And made him ache a bit more.

But then he pushed it to the side – he always did – and went back to work.

A bit stiffly, perhaps, a bit empty – but back to work just the same.

****

He didn’t tell Moneypenny about the dreams he started having.

He did tell the taxi driver.

They weren't so much dreams – as - fantastical imaginings, daydreaming-at-night, in the wee hours, about what might have been -

Of James committing to _him_.

The taxi driver said something a bit cunning that didn’t make even a bit of sense on some level – and, as illogical as it might be, Q left feeling a bit less ashamed of being rejected - even if he'd been the one who'd technically done the rejecting -

A little less ashamed of not being _enough_ , even if Bond had said many a time that he didn't deserve Q.

Even if he'd still say it.

That was just bollocks.

****

In the end, James made the next move.

Q certainly wouldn't have.

There was a limit to his tolerance for humiliation, however big or small.

James stood on Q's doorstep, flakes of snow scattered on his wool overcoat.

Q briefly considered pretending he wasn't home, but then decided against it - after all, he couldn't very well turn James away, not when one of his major complaints had been that Bond wouldn't _talk_ to him.

"We need to speak," James said - unnecessarily, perhaps - as Q opened the door.

Q didn't let him come inside.

"Say what you'd like," Q said, and waited, arms folded.

"Can I - " and then James sighed, that defeated look crossing his face once more.

If someone had been watching them - well, they'd be hard pressed to say whose eyes held the most pain.

“Time doesn’t heal all wounds,” Q said bitterly, preempting whatever it was James couldn't seem to spit out.

“But maybe Time might give an old bastard a second chance?” James said softly – his entire frame shrinking, small, but covering the entire horizon of Q's vision just the same.

Q’s heart pattered – sputtered – and pattered some more.

Not pleasantly so.

But not unpleasantly either.

He was caught somewhere in the nether, in the space between wanting and not.

“You fucking broke my heart, James,” he spat out, the words tumbling out of his mouth before he’d realized he was going to say them.

“As I remember it, you broke up with _me_ , Q,” James almost snarled, though his face was impassive as ever -

And something within Q finally snapped.

"Fuck you! Get your head out of your arse just this once - look at what you _did_.  And _now_ you come back to me, I get the - what, the sloppy seconds, is that it?"

"What about what _you_ did, Q? You never gave me a sodding chance!"

Q snorted, rolled his eyes, and stormed back into his flat.

He didn't close the door.

"May I come in?" James called, perhaps a bit too politely, irritatingly so.

"Whatever suits your fancy," Q said, "though _that_ is never a constant thing, is it?"

James' expression grew even more unreadable, hiding his own hurt and anger - but he quelled his retort.

"Q, I'm not going to lie. I _loved_ her - I still do."

Q's well-hidden turmoil began steeping, but instead of telling Bond to bugger off, a nervous laugh escaped his throat. "Look, I'm utterly sorry for what happened. But what's next, you've come here to tell me that she was the better one for you in every way? How all the others were, too? How you want to make sure I'm ok, because you care, but obviously not in the way I care for you -"

"Stop it, you, you - " James grabbed Q by the shoulders - gently, firmly. "Let me _finish_ , and then I'll go. Yes, I loved her - but that doesn't mean I didn't bloody well love _you_ -" and he looked away, briefly, "I still do - even if you don't sodding believe it. Most importantly - and why I'm here - is that most of all I regret not _trying_ with _you_."

James stepped back, not taking his eyes off Q. "I fucked _us_ up royally, Q. And I understand that you've moved on - but I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry. Life's too short, and all that."

He moved to leave, stopping near the door when Q yelled to him. "I haven't moved on, you stupid idiot. Why do you think that?"

James simply turned, meeting Q's eyes. 

"You've been researching me. Invading my privacy," Q gasped.

James shook his head. "No, Q - I can see it in your eyes. It's been that way for so long - since Spectre, maybe a bit before."

They stared at each other, then, as seconds, minutes, ticked by.

And then finally, Q spoke again, this time his voice more a whisper than anything else,

"You obviously need new bifocals, James, if that's what you think."

"Do I?" James whispered back, not moving, for once - just this once - not bristling at the ill-timed joke about their age difference.

_Fuck it._

"Yes," Q said, and then, more firmly - "Yes."

****

Two years and three months later, Moneypenny plopped herself on Q's desk.

"Your husband-to-be is driving me batty. Do you know he dragged me to five more - five - tailors on Savile Row today? Five! And tomorrow we're hitting up Conduit Street. I'm certain Tom Ford could make him a perfectly suitable - hah, wedding suit - but no, he has to see _absolutely_ _everything_ London has to offer."

Q didn't look away from his computer screen. "Just one moment, I simply need to finish - "

He was so absorbed in what he was doing that he didn't notice Eve leave.

"Now, then," Q said as he looked up, eyes warm as he saw James standing by one of his worktables, fiddling with one of Q's newer inventions.

In the end, Q decided, when it came to _this_ James, _his_ James - his mind and his heart _did_ want - _could_ want - the same things.


End file.
